. The Goblin January 1922. Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of the party In the Garden Under the blossoming bough In the Garden of Olin, Breathing the sweet-scented air, Heavy with pollen, Cross-kneed sat the gardener. Over the lofty stone wall Where the ivy was clinging Floated the musical sound Of a voice that was singing,— The daughter of Hassim. O what a chance for romance Twixt the maid and the toiler! But, alas, shed a face like a squash And a shape like a boiler,— The man was a deaf mute!. The Curse of Cane

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